


Esca is a Bad-Tempered Briton and Short Like a Girl

by aeroport_art



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-24
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeroport_art/pseuds/aeroport_art
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Eagle kink meme. Prompt: <i>Marcus gets a new slave who develops a huge crush on Esca.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Esca is a Bad-Tempered Briton and Short Like a Girl

He doesn't notice anything at first.

To Marcus, Esca is just Esca. Short like a girl, bad-tempered, and a little bit terrifying when he gets that maniacal glint in his eye, usually when Marcus has done something wrong without even realizing.

(Marcus may or may not still be traumatised from their first meeting. Esca did, after all, pull a knife on him by way of introduction.)

He doesn't notice anything until...well, until Caellum notices something.

Caellum is Marcus' new body-slave.

Caellum is checking out Esca's arse.

 _"Esca,"_ Marcus grits between teeth. "Stand up. That is a slave's duty, not yours."

Esca shoots Marcus-- _Marcus!_ \--a dirty look over his shoulder. He is on his hands and knees, pulling weeds that have sprouted up around the chicken coop, and his tunic does not cover nearly enough of his backside. His bracchae are stretched tight accross his buttocks, and when Esca comes by a particularly resistant weed, the tugging motions cause his body to rock back and forth. Beside Marcus, Caellum raises a single eyebrow.

The lewd smirk that follows is disohonorable, is what it is. "Slave," Marcus barks. "Take over for Esca."

Caellum starts a bit, apologizing as he moves forward to join Esca in the dirt. He needn't bother, however; Esca stands up, shoves a last handful of weeds into the burlap bag by his feet, then claps the soil off his palms.

"Don't worry about it, Caellum," Esca says, with an overly familiar touch to the slave's shoulder. Esca then shoots Marcus a pointed look. "There is no _free man's duty_ or _slave's duty;_ only work to be done. And I've finished here, so Caellum can take the bag and toss it into the river. We don't want the seeds sprouting up on our land."

Esca brushes past Marcus on his way back to the house, his shoulder bumping him just hard enough to tell Marcus that Esca's annoyed with him. For what reason, he has no idea.

Marcus turns to Caellum to see if he's not the only one flummoxed by Esca's behavior, but then catches his slave's eyes transfixed on Esca once again, where his tunic is still rucked up over his behind.

If Marcus' gaze leads there as well, it's only because Caellum seems to find it so interesting.

All Marcus concludes, though, is that Esca ought to purchase a new pair of bracchae. No self-respecting man wears garments that cling to one's body like that, as if wet cloth, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Next to him, Caellum noisily clears his throat. Marcus jerks his eyes back up, mentally deciding to buy Esca a Roman tunic at the market on Sunday, the cut of which is looser and longer, almost to the knees. _Decent,_ that is to say.

If that fails, he can always sell Caellum and his wandering eyes back to the auctions.

Unfortunately, when Marcus broaches the idea (he'd heard Caellum offer Esca a body massage in the baths that morning!), Esca takes it upon himself to defend Caellum as if he were a martyr or something, which, come on.

"He's lazy," Marcus says, making his point with a jab of his spoon to the air. "Every time I give him a task to do, I eventually find him by river, swimming or trying to catch fish."

"That's nonsense," Esca says, grabbing Marcus' cup before he can get to it, taking a large mouthful of wine just to be obnoxious. When he drains the liquid, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Marcus wrinkles his nose. Esca continues, "Just the other day, he finished tilling the soil twice as fast as I could do, and then he came back and did all the laundry. He even offered to help me hang it all up."

"Oh, I'm sure he _offered--"_

"Marcus."

Esca's sharp tone has the instantaneous effect of shutting Marcus up. In the relative silence--only the sounds of dinner being eaten--Esca picks up again, his voice softer this time.

"I know what this is about," he says gently.

Marcus rips off a hunk of bread and stuffs it into his mouth, preventing himself from having to answer but for a muffled _hmm?_

"It isn't Caellum that's bothering you, is it?"

Marcus determinedly chews his food, looking somewhere over Esca's right shoulder.

"It's about you. And how you feel about me."

Marcus swallows, hard, and the bread goes down dry and he needs to wash it down with something, but he has no more wine, and so Marcus turns his head to the side and coughs into his arm, loudly.

He's starting to think he can get away with standing up to leave, but then Esca sighs audibly and pushes over his cup of water. Picking it up, Marcus drinks thirstily to the sound of Esca's continued speech.

"You're very kind, Aquila. It gladdens my heart to know you care for me this deeply."

"I don't," Marcus splutters. "I mean, I do. But you don't understand. It's _Caellum._ Maybe he listens to you and works hard for you, but it's only because he has designs on--on your virtue."

Esca throws him a confused look, leaning back in his seat. "My virtue? What are you talking about?"

"If he had half a chance, Caellum would worm his way--"

"You know what?" Esca interrupts. "Never mind. Your excuses are just that: excuses. It's nothing to do with Caellum. You'd be uncomfortable with any slave because you think having one under our roofs--you think it upsets me, or something. But honestly, Marcus, as long as you house him and feed him, and _treat him well,_ I could care less."

It's Marcus' turn to set his spoon down and recline in his chair. "Oh," he says dumbly. "You think I want to sell Caellum because...you might be uncomfortable with my owning of a slave."

Esca stubbornly cants his chin up. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Never one to waste an opportunity, Marcus quickly replies, "Yes. Yes, you're absolutely right. That is why I want to be rid of Caellum."

When Esca's reaction is to relax, shoulders easing as he reaches forward to lightly slap Marcus' cheek in two quick, affectionate successions, Marcus feels his chest seize with something unnamable.

When Esca shares one of his rare smiles, eyes crinkling down at the corners...that's when Marcus notices.

He notices that Esca is beautiful.

Then, he remembers that Caellum is here to stay.

Well, fuck.


End file.
